top truyện tiếng anh nên đọc Twenty thousand leagues under the sea

Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne Prepared and Published by: Ebd E-BooksDirectory.com Introduction "The deepest parts of the ocean are totally unknown to us," admits Professor Aronnax early in this novel "What goes on in those distant depths? What creatures inhabit, or could inhabit, those regions twelve or fifteen miles beneath the surface of the water? It's almost beyond conjecture." Jules Verne (1828–1905) published the French equivalents of these words in 1869, and little has changed since 126 years later, a Time cover story on deep–sea exploration made much the same admission: "We know more about Mars than we know about the oceans." This reality begins to explain the dark power and otherworldly fascination of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas Born in the French river town of Nantes, Verne had a lifelong passion for the sea First as a Paris stockbroker, later as a celebrated author and yachtsman, he went on frequent voyages—to Britain, America, the Mediterranean But the specific stimulus for this novel was an 1865 fan letter from a fellow writer, Madame George Sand She praised Verne's two early novels Five Weeks in a Balloon (1863) and Journey to the Center of the Earth (1864), then added: "Soon I hope you'll take us into the ocean depths, your characters traveling in diving equipment perfected by your science and your imagination." Thus inspired, Verne created one of literature's great rebels, a freedom fighter who plunged beneath the waves to wage a unique form of guerilla warfare Initially, Verne's narrative was influenced by the 1863 uprising of Poland against Tsarist Russia The Poles were quashed with a violence that appalled not only Verne but all Europe As originally conceived, Verne's Captain Nemo was a Polish nobleman whose entire family had been slaughtered by Russian troops Nemo builds a fabulous futuristic submarine, the Nautilus, then conducts an underwater campaign of vengeance against his imperialist oppressor But in the 1860s France had to treat the Tsar as an ally, and Verne's publisher, Pierre Hetzel, pronounced the book unprintable Verne reworked its political content, devising new nationalities for Nemo and his great enemy—information revealed only in a later novel, The Mysterious Island (1875); in the present work Nemo's background remains a dark secret In all, the novel had a difficult gestation Verne and Hetzel were in constant conflict and the book went through multiple drafts, struggles reflected in its several working titles over the period 1865–69: early on, it was variously called Voyage Under the Waters, Twenty–five Thousand Leagues Under the Waters, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Waters, and A Thousand Leagues Under the Oceans Verne is often dubbed, in Isaac Asimov's phrase, "the world's first science–fiction writer." And it's true, many of his sixty–odd books anticipate future events and technologies: From the Earth to the Moon (1865) and Hector Servadac (1877) deal in space travel, while Journey to the Center of the Earth features travel to the earth's core But with Verne the operative word is "travel," and some of his best– known titles don't really qualify as sci–fi: Around the World in Eighty Days (1872) and Michael Strogoff (1876) are closer to "travelogs"— adventure yarns in far–away places These observations partly apply here The subtitle of the present book is An Underwater Tour of the World, so in good travelog style, the Nautilus's exploits supply an episodic story line Shark attacks, giant squid, cannibals, hurricanes, whale hunts, and other rip– roaring adventures erupt almost at random Yet this loose structure gives the novel an air of documentary realism What's more, Verne adds backbone to the action by developing three recurring motifs: the deepening mystery of Nemo's past life and future intentions, the mounting tension between Nemo and hot–tempered harpooner Ned Land, and Ned's ongoing schemes to escape from the Nautilus These unifying threads tighten the narrative and accelerate its momentum Other subtleties occur inside each episode, the textures sparkling with wit, information, and insight Verne regards the sea from many angles: in the domain of marine biology, he gives us thumbnail sketches of fish, seashells, coral, sometimes in great catalogs that swirl past like musical cascades; in the realm of geology, he studies volcanoes literally inside and out; in the world of commerce, he celebrates the high–energy entrepreneurs who lay the Atlantic Cable or dig the Suez Canal And Verne's marine engineering proves especially authoritative His specifications for an open–sea submarine and a self–contained diving suit were decades before their time, yet modern technology bears them out triumphantly True, today's scientists know a few things he didn't: the South Pole isn't at the water's edge but far inland; sharks don't flip over before attacking; giant squid sport ten tentacles not eight; sperm whales don't prey on their whalebone cousins This notwithstanding, Verne furnishes the most evocative portrayal of the ocean depths before the arrival of Jacques Cousteau and technicolor film Lastly the book has stature as a novel of character Even the supporting cast is shrewdly drawn: Professor Aronnax, the career scientist caught in an ethical conflict; Conseil, the compulsive classifier who supplies humorous tag lines for Verne's fast facts; the harpooner Ned Land, a creature of constant appetites, man as heroic animal But much of the novel's brooding power comes from Captain Nemo Inventor, musician, Renaissance genius, he's a trail–blazing creation, the prototype not only for countless renegade scientists in popular fiction, but even for such varied figures as Sherlock Holmes or Wolf Larsen However, Verne gives his hero's brilliance and benevolence a dark underside—the man's obsessive hate for his old enemy This compulsion leads Nemo into ugly contradictions: he's a fighter for freedom, yet all who board his ship are imprisoned there for good; he works to save lives, both human and animal, yet he himself creates a holocaust; he detests imperialism, yet he lays personal claim to the South Pole And in this last action he falls into the classic sin of Pride He's swiftly punished The Nautilus nearly perishes in the Antarctic and Nemo sinks into a growing depression Like Shakespeare's King Lear he courts death and madness in a great storm, then commits mass murder, collapses in catatonic paralysis, and suicidally runs his ship into the ocean's most dangerous whirlpool Hate swallows him whole For many, then, this book has been a source of fascination, surely one of the most influential novels ever written, an inspiration for such scientists and discoverers as engineer Simon Lake, oceanographer William Beebe, polar traveler Sir Ernest Shackleton Likewise Dr Robert D Ballard, finder of the sunken Titanic, confesses that this was his favorite book as a teenager, and Cousteau himself, most renowned of marine explorers, called it his shipboard bible The present translation is a faithful yet communicative rendering of the original French texts published in Paris by J Hetzel et Cie.— the hardcover first edition issued in the autumn of 1871, collated with the softcover editions of the First and Second Parts issued separately in the autumn of 1869 and the summer of 1870 Although prior English versions have often been heavily abridged, this new translation is complete to the smallest substantive detail Because, as that Time cover story suggests, we still haven't caught up with Verne Even in our era of satellite dishes and video games, the seas keep their secrets We've seen progress in sonar, torpedoes, and other belligerent machinery, but sailors and scientists—to say nothing of tourists—have yet to voyage in a submarine with the luxury and efficiency of the Nautilus F P WALTER University of Houston Ebd E-BooksDirectory.com Units of Measure cable length centigrade In Verne's context, 600 feet 0° centigrade = freezing water 37° = human centigrade temperature 100° = boiling water centigrade fathom feet gram Roughly 1/28 of an ounce milligram Roughly 1/28,000 of an ounce kilogram (kilo) Roughly 2.2 pounds hectare Roughly 2.5 acres knot 1.15 miles per hour league In Verne's context, 2.16 miles liter Roughly quart meter Roughly yard, inches millimeter Roughly 1/25 of an inch centimeter Roughly 2/5 of an inch decimeter Roughly inches kilometer Roughly 6/10 of a mile myriameter Roughly 6.2 miles ton, metric Roughly 2,200 pounds body FIRST PART Chapter A Runaway Reef THE YEAR 1866 was marked by a bizarre development, an unexplained and downright inexplicable phenomenon that surely no one has forgotten Without getting into those rumors that upset civilians in the seaports and deranged the public mind even far inland, it must be said that professional seamen were especially alarmed Traders, shipowners, captains of vessels, skippers, and master mariners from Europe and America, naval officers from every country, and at their heels the various national governments on these two continents, were all extremely disturbed by the business In essence, over a period of time several ships had encountered "an enormous thing" at sea, a long spindle–shaped object, sometimes giving off a phosphorescent glow, infinitely bigger and faster than any whale The relevant data on this apparition, as recorded in various logbooks, agreed pretty closely as to the structure of the object or creature in question, its unprecedented speed of movement, its startling locomotive power, and the unique vitality with which it seemed to be gifted If it was a cetacean, it exceeded in bulk any whale previously classified by science No naturalist, neither Cuvier nor Lacépède, neither Professor Dumeril nor Professor de Quatrefages, would have accepted the existence of such a monster sight unseen—specifically, unseen by their own scientific eyes Striking an average of observations taken at different times— rejecting those timid estimates that gave the object a length of 200 feet, and ignoring those exaggerated views that saw it as a mile wide and three long—you could still assert that this phenomenal creature greatly exceeded the dimensions of anything then known to ichthyologists, if it existed at all Now then, it did exist, this was an undeniable fact; and since the human mind dotes on objects of wonder, you can understand the worldwide excitement caused by this unearthly apparition As for relegating it to the realm of fiction, that charge had to be dropped In essence, on July 20, 1866, the steamer Governor Higginson, from the Calcutta & Burnach Steam Navigation Co., encountered this moving mass five miles off the eastern shores of Australia Captain Baker at first thought he was in the presence of an unknown reef; he was even about to fix its exact position when two waterspouts shot out of this inexplicable object and sprang hissing into the air some 150 feet So, unless this reef was subject to the intermittent eruptions of a geyser, the Governor Higginson had fair and honest dealings with some aquatic mammal, until then unknown, that could spurt from its blowholes waterspouts mixed with air and steam Similar events were likewise observed in Pacific seas, on July 23 of the same year, by the Christopher Columbus from the West India & Pacific Steam Navigation Co Consequently, this extraordinary cetacean could transfer itself from one locality to another with startling swiftness, since within an interval of just three days, the Governor Higginson and the Christopher Columbus had observed it at two positions on the charts separated by a distance of more than 700 nautical leagues Fifteen days later and 2,000 leagues farther, the Helvetia from the Compagnie Nationale and the Shannon from the Royal Mail line, running on opposite tacks in that part of the Atlantic lying between the United States and Europe, respectively signaled each other that the monster had been sighted in latitude 42° 15' north and longitude 60° 35' west of the meridian of Greenwich From their simultaneous observations, they were able to estimate the mammal's minimum length at more than 350 English feet;* this was because both the Shannon and the Helvetia were of smaller dimensions, although each measured 100 meters stem to stern Now then, the biggest whales, those rorqual whales that frequent the waterways of the Aleutian Islands, have never exceeded a length of 56 meters—if they reach even that *Author's Note: About 106 meters An English foot is only 30.4 centimeters One after another, reports arrived that would profoundly affect public opinion: new observations taken by the transatlantic liner Pereire, the Inman line's Etna running afoul of the monster, an official report drawn up by officers on the French frigate Normandy, dead–earnest reckonings obtained by the general staff of Commodore Fitz–James aboard the Lord Clyde In lighthearted countries, people joked about this phenomenon, but such serious, practical countries as England, America, and Germany were deeply concerned In every big city the monster was the latest rage; they sang about it in the coffee houses, they ridiculed it in the newspapers, they dramatized it in the theaters The tabloids found it a fine opportunity for hatching all sorts of hoaxes In those newspapers short of copy, you saw the reappearance of every gigantic imaginary creature, from "Moby Dick," that dreadful white whale from the High Arctic regions, to the stupendous kraken whose tentacles could entwine a 500–ton craft and drag it into the ocean depths They even reprinted reports from ancient times: the views of Aristotle and Pliny accepting the existence of such monsters, then the Norwegian stories of Bishop Pontoppidan, the narratives of Paul Egede, and finally the reports of Captain Harrington—whose good faith is above suspicion—in which he claims he saw, while aboard the Castilian in 1857, one of those enormous serpents that, until then, had frequented only the seas of France's old extremist newspaper, The Constitutionalist An interminable debate then broke out between believers and skeptics in the scholarly societies and scientific journals The "monster question" inflamed all minds During this memorable campaign, journalists making a profession of science battled with those making a profession of wit, spilling waves of ink and some of them even two or three drops of blood, since they went from sea serpents to the most offensive personal remarks For six months the war seesawed With inexhaustible zest, the popular press took potshots at feature articles from the Geographic Institute of Brazil, the Royal Academy of Science in Berlin, the British Association, the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., at discussions in The Indian Archipelago, in Cosmos published by Father Moigno, in Petermann's Mittheilungen,* and at scientific chronicles in the great French and foreign newspapers When the monster's detractors cited a saying by the botanist Linnaeus that "nature doesn't make leaps," witty writers in the popular periodicals parodied it, maintaining in essence that "nature doesn't make lunatics," and ordering their contemporaries never to give the lie to nature by believing in krakens, sea serpents, "Moby Dicks," and other all–out efforts from drunken seamen Finally, in a much–feared satirical journal, an article by its most popular columnist finished off the monster for good, spurning it in the style of Hippolytus repulsing the amorous advances of his stepmother Phædra, and giving the creature its quietus amid a universal burst of laughter Wit had defeated science * German: "Bulletin." Ed During the first months of the year 1867, the question seemed to be buried, and it didn't seem due for resurrection, when new facts were brought to the public's attention But now it was no longer an issue of a scientific problem to be solved, but a quite real and serious danger to be avoided The question took an entirely new turn The monster again became an islet, rock, or reef, but a runaway reef, unfixed and elusive On March 5, 1867, the Moravian from the Montreal Ocean Co., lying during the night in latitude 27° 30' and longitude 72° 15', ran its starboard quarter afoul of a rock marked on no charts of these waterways Under the combined efforts of wind and 400– horsepower steam, it was traveling at a speed of thirteen knots Without the high quality of its hull, the Moravian would surely have split open from this collision and gone down together with those 237 passengers it was bringing back from Canada This accident happened around five o'clock in the morning, just as day was beginning to break The officers on watch rushed to the craft's stern They examined the ocean with the most scrupulous care They saw nothing except a strong eddy breaking three cable lengths out, as if those sheets of water had been violently churned The site's exact bearings were taken, and the Moravian continued on Dreadful to hear, Captain Nemo was even more dreadful to see His face was pale from some spasm of his heart, which must have stopped beating for an instant His pupils were hideously contracted His voice was no longer speaking, it was bellowing Bending from the waist, he shook the Canadian by the shoulders Then, dropping Ned and turning to the battleship, whose shells were showering around him: "O ship of an accursed nation, you know who I am!" he shouted in his powerful voice "And I don't need your colors to recognize you! Look! I'll show you mine!" And in the bow of the platform, Captain Nemo unfurled a black flag, like the one he had left planted at the South Pole Just then a shell hit the Nautilus's hull obliquely, failed to breach it, ricocheted near the captain, and vanished into the sea Captain Nemo shrugged his shoulders Then, addressing me: "Go below!" he told me in a curt tone "You and your companions, go below!" "Sir," I exclaimed, "are you going to attack this ship?" "Sir, I'm going to sink it." "You wouldn't!" "I will," Captain Nemo replied icily "You're ill–advised to pass judgment on me, sir Fate has shown you what you weren't meant to see The attack has come Our reply will be dreadful Get back inside!" "From what country is that ship?" "You don't know? Fine, so much the better! At least its nationality will remain a secret to you Go below!" The Canadian, Conseil, and I could only obey Some fifteen of the Nautilus's seamen surrounded their captain and stared with a feeling of implacable hate at the ship bearing down on them You could feel the same spirit of vengeance enkindling their every soul I went below just as another projectile scraped the Nautilus's hull, and I heard the captain exclaim: "Shoot, you demented vessel! Shower your futile shells! You won't escape the Nautilus's spur! But this isn't the place where you'll perish! I don't want your wreckage mingling with that of the Avenger!" I repaired to my stateroom The captain and his chief officer stayed on the platform The propeller was set in motion The Nautilus swiftly retreated, putting us outside the range of the vessel's shells But the chase continued, and Captain Nemo was content to keep his distance Near four o'clock in the afternoon, unable to control the impatience and uneasiness devouring me, I went back to the central companionway The hatch was open I ventured onto the platform The captain was still strolling there, his steps agitated He stared at the ship, which stayed to his leeward five or six miles off He was circling it like a wild beast, drawing it eastward, letting it chase after him Yet he didn't attack Was he, perhaps, still undecided? I tried to intervene one last time But I had barely queried Captain Nemo when the latter silenced me: "I'm the law, I'm the tribunal! I'm the oppressed, and there are my oppressors! Thanks to them, I've witnessed the destruction of everything I loved, cherished, and venerated—homeland, wife, children, father, and mother! There lies everything I hate! Not another word out of you!" I took a last look at the battleship, which was putting on steam Then I rejoined Ned and Conseil "We'll escape!" I exclaimed "Good," Ned put in "Where's that ship from?" "I've no idea But wherever it's from, it will sink before nightfall In any event, it's better to perish with it than be accomplices in some act of revenge whose merits we can't gauge." "That's my feeling," Ned Land replied coolly "Let's wait for nightfall." Night fell A profound silence reigned on board The compass indicated that the Nautilus hadn't changed direction I could hear the beat of its propeller, churning the waves with steady speed Staying on the surface of the water, it rolled gently, sometimes to one side, sometimes to the other My companions and I had decided to escape as soon as the vessel came close enough for us to be heard—or seen, because the moon would wax full in three days and was shining brightly Once we were aboard that ship, if we couldn't ward off the blow that threatened it, at least we could everything that circumstances permitted Several times I thought the Nautilus was about to attack But it was content to let its adversary approach, and then it would quickly resume its retreating ways Part of the night passed without incident We kept watch for an opportunity to take action We talked little, being too keyed up Ned Land was all for jumping overboard I forced him to wait As I saw it, the Nautilus would attack the double–decker on the surface of the waves, and then it would be not only possible but easy to escape At three o'clock in the morning, full of uneasiness, I climbed onto the platform Captain Nemo hadn't left it He stood in the bow next to his flag, which a mild breeze was unfurling above his head His eyes never left that vessel The extraordinary intensity of his gaze seemed to attract it, beguile it, and draw it more surely than if he had it in tow! The moon then passed its zenith Jupiter was rising in the east In the midst of this placid natural setting, sky and ocean competed with each other in tranquility, and the sea offered the orb of night the loveliest mirror ever to reflect its image And when I compared this deep calm of the elements with all the fury seething inside the plating of this barely perceptible Nautilus, I shivered all over The vessel was two miles off It drew nearer, always moving toward the phosphorescent glow that signaled the Nautilus's presence I saw its green and red running lights, plus the white lantern hanging from the large stay of its foremast Hazy flickerings were reflected on its rigging and indicated that its furnaces were pushed to the limit Showers of sparks and cinders of flaming coal escaped from its funnels, spangling the air with stars I stood there until six o'clock in the morning, Captain Nemo never seeming to notice me The vessel lay a mile and a half off, and with the first glimmers of daylight, it resumed its cannonade The time couldn't be far away when the Nautilus would attack its adversary, and my companions and I would leave forever this man I dared not judge I was about to go below to alert them, when the chief officer climbed onto the platform Several seamen were with him Captain Nemo didn't see them, or didn't want to see them They carried out certain procedures that, on the Nautilus, you could call "clearing the decks for action." They were quite simple The manropes that formed a handrail around the platform were lowered Likewise the pilothouse and the beacon housing were withdrawn into the hull until they lay exactly flush with it The surface of this long sheet– iron cigar no longer offered a single protrusion that could hamper its maneuvers I returned to the lounge The Nautilus still emerged above the surface A few morning gleams infiltrated the liquid strata Beneath the undulations of the billows, the windows were enlivened by the blushing of the rising sun That dreadful day of June had dawned At seven o'clock the log told me that the Nautilus had reduced speed I realized that it was letting the warship approach Moreover, the explosions grew more intensely audible Shells furrowed the water around us, drilling through it with an odd hissing sound "My friends," I said, "it's time Let's shake hands, and may God be with us!" Ned Land was determined, Conseil calm, I myself nervous and barely in control We went into the library Just as I pushed open the door leading to the well of the central companionway, I heard the hatch close sharply overhead The Canadian leaped up the steps, but I stopped him A well– known hissing told me that water was entering the ship's ballast tanks Indeed, in a few moments the Nautilus had submerged some meters below the surface of the waves I understood this maneuver It was too late to take action The Nautilus wasn't going to strike the double–decker where it was clad in impenetrable iron armor, but below its waterline, where the metal carapace no longer protected its planking We were prisoners once more, unwilling spectators at the performance of this gruesome drama But we barely had time to think Taking refuge in my stateroom, we stared at each other without pronouncing a word My mind was in a total daze My mental processes came to a dead stop I hovered in that painful state that predominates during the period of anticipation before some frightful explosion I waited, I listened, I lived only through my sense of hearing! Meanwhile the Nautilus's speed had increased appreciably So it was gathering momentum Its entire hull was vibrating Suddenly I let out a yell There had been a collision, but it was comparatively mild I could feel the penetrating force of the steel spur I could hear scratchings and scrapings Carried away with its driving power, the Nautilus had passed through the vessel's mass like a sailmaker's needle through canvas! I couldn't hold still Frantic, going insane, I leaped out of my stateroom and rushed into the lounge Captain Nemo was there Mute, gloomy, implacable, he was staring through the port panel An enormous mass was sinking beneath the waters, and the Nautilus, missing none of its death throes, was descending into the depths with it Ten meters away, I could see its gaping hull, into which water was rushing with a sound of thunder, then its double rows of cannons and railings Its deck was covered with dark, quivering shadows The water was rising Those poor men leaped up into the shrouds, clung to the masts, writhed beneath the waters It was a human anthill that an invading sea had caught by surprise! Paralyzed, rigid with anguish, my hair standing on end, my eyes popping out of my head, short of breath, suffocating, speechless, I stared—I too! I was glued to the window by an irresistible allure! The enormous vessel settled slowly Following it down, the Nautilus kept watch on its every movement Suddenly there was an eruption The air compressed inside the craft sent its decks flying, as if the powder stores had been ignited The thrust of the waters was so great, the Nautilus swerved away The poor ship then sank more swiftly Its mastheads appeared, laden with victims, then its crosstrees bending under clusters of men, finally the peak of its mainmast Then the dark mass disappeared, and with it a crew of corpses dragged under by fearsome eddies I turned to Captain Nemo This dreadful executioner, this true archangel of hate, was still staring When it was all over, Captain Nemo headed to the door of his stateroom, opened it, and entered I followed him with my eyes On the rear paneling, beneath the portraits of his heroes, I saw the portrait of a still–youthful woman with two little children Captain Nemo stared at them for a few moments, stretched out his arms to them, sank to his knees, and melted into sobs Chapter 22 The Last Words of Captain Nemo THE PANELS CLOSED over this frightful view, but the lights didn't go on in the lounge Inside the Nautilus all was gloom and silence It left this place of devastation with prodigious speed, 100 feet beneath the waters Where was it going? North or south? Where would the man flee after this horrible act of revenge? I reentered my stateroom, where Ned and Conseil were waiting silently Captain Nemo filled me with insurmountable horror Whatever he had once suffered at the hands of humanity, he had no right to mete out such punishment He had made me, if not an accomplice, at least an eyewitness to his vengeance! Even this was intolerable At eleven o'clock the electric lights came back on I went into the lounge It was deserted I consulted the various instruments The Nautilus was fleeing northward at a speed of twenty–five miles per hour, sometimes on the surface of the sea, sometimes thirty feet beneath it After our position had been marked on the chart, I saw that we were passing into the mouth of the English Channel, that our heading would take us to the northernmost seas with incomparable speed I could barely glimpse the swift passing of longnose sharks, hammerhead sharks, spotted dogfish that frequent these waters, big eagle rays, swarms of seahorse looking like knights on a chessboard, eels quivering like fireworks serpents, armies of crab that fled obliquely by crossing their pincers over their carapaces, finally schools of porpoise that held contests of speed with the Nautilus But by this point observing, studying, and classifying were out of the question By evening we had cleared 200 leagues up the Atlantic Shadows gathered and gloom overran the sea until the moon came up I repaired to my stateroom I couldn't sleep I was assaulted by nightmares That horrible scene of destruction kept repeating in my mind's eye From that day forward, who knows where the Nautilus took us in the north Atlantic basin? Always at incalculable speed! Always amid the High Arctic mists! Did it call at the capes of Spitzbergen or the shores of Novaya Zemlya? Did it visit such uncharted seas as the White Sea, the Kara Sea, the Gulf of Ob, the Lyakhov Islands, or those unknown beaches on the Siberian coast? I'm unable to say I lost track of the passing hours Time was in abeyance on the ship's clocks As happens in the polar regions, it seemed that night and day no longer followed their normal sequence I felt myself being drawn into that strange domain where the overwrought imagination of Edgar Allan Poe was at home Like his fabled Arthur Gordon Pym, I expected any moment to see that "shrouded human figure, very far larger in its proportions than any dweller among men," thrown across the cataract that protects the outskirts of the pole! I estimate—but perhaps I'm mistaken—that the Nautilus's haphazard course continued for fifteen or twenty days, and I'm not sure how long this would have gone on without the catastrophe that ended our voyage As for Captain Nemo, he was no longer in the picture As for his chief officer, the same applied Not one crewman was visible for a single instant The Nautilus cruised beneath the waters almost continuously When it rose briefly to the surface to renew our air, the hatches opened and closed as if automated No more positions were reported on the world map I didn't know where we were I'll also mention that the Canadian, at the end of his strength and patience, made no further appearances Conseil couldn't coax a single word out of him and feared that, in a fit of delirium while under the sway of a ghastly homesickness, Ned would kill himself So he kept a devoted watch on his friend every instant You can appreciate that under these conditions, our situation had become untenable One morning—whose date I'm unable to specify—I was slumbering near the first hours of daylight, a painful, sickly slumber Waking up, I saw Ned Land leaning over me, and I heard him tell me in a low voice: "We're going to escape!" I sat up "When?" I asked "Tonight There doesn't seem to be any supervision left on the Nautilus You'd think a total daze was reigning on board Will you be ready, sir?" "Yes Where are we?" "In sight of land I saw it through the mists just this morning, twenty miles to the east." "What land is it?" "I've no idea, but whatever it is, there we'll take refuge." "Yes, Ned! We'll escape tonight even if the sea swallows us up!" "The sea's rough, the wind's blowing hard, but a twenty–mile run in the Nautilus's nimble longboat doesn't scare me Unknown to the crew, I've stowed some food and flasks of water inside." "I'm with you." "What's more," the Canadian added, "if they catch me, I'll defend myself, I'll fight to the death." "Then we'll die together, Ned my friend." My mind was made up The Canadian left me I went out on the platform, where I could barely stand upright against the jolts of the billows The skies were threatening, but land lay inside those dense mists, and we had to escape Not a single day, or even a single hour, could we afford to lose I returned to the lounge, dreading yet desiring an encounter with Captain Nemo, wanting yet not wanting to see him What would I say to him? How could I hide the involuntary horror he inspired in me? No! It was best not to meet him face to face! Best to try and forget him! And yet ! How long that day seemed, the last I would spend aboard the Nautilus! I was left to myself Ned Land and Conseil avoided speaking to me, afraid they would give themselves away At six o'clock I ate supper, but I had no appetite Despite my revulsion, I forced it down, wanting to keep my strength up At 6:30 Ned Land entered my stateroom He told me: "We won't see each other again before we go At ten o'clock the moon won't be up yet We'll take advantage of the darkness Come to the skiff Conseil and I will be inside waiting for you." The Canadian left without giving me time to answer him I wanted to verify the Nautilus's heading I made my way to the lounge We were racing north–northeast with frightful speed, fifty meters down I took one last look at the natural wonders and artistic treasures amassed in the museum, this unrivaled collection doomed to perish someday in the depths of the seas, together with its curator I wanted to establish one supreme impression in my mind I stayed there an hour, basking in the aura of the ceiling lights, passing in review the treasures shining in their glass cases Then I returned to my stateroom There I dressed in sturdy seafaring clothes I gathered my notes and packed them tenderly about my person My heart was pounding mightily I couldn't curb its pulsations My anxiety and agitation would certainly have given me away if Captain Nemo had seen me What was he doing just then? I listened at the door to his stateroom I heard the sound of footsteps Captain Nemo was inside He hadn't gone to bed With his every movement I imagined he would appear and ask me why I wanted to escape! I felt in a perpetual state of alarm My imagination magnified this sensation The feeling became so acute, I wondered whether it wouldn't be better to enter the captain's stateroom, dare him face to face, brave it out with word and deed! It was an insane idea Fortunately I controlled myself and stretched out on the bed to soothe my bodily agitation My nerves calmed a little, but with my brain so aroused, I did a swift review of my whole existence aboard the Nautilus, every pleasant or unpleasant incident that had crossed my path since I went overboard from the Abraham Lincoln: the underwater hunting trip, the Torres Strait, our running aground, the savages of Papua, the coral cemetery, the Suez passageway, the island of Santorini, the Cretan diver, the Bay of Vigo, Atlantis, the Ice Bank, the South Pole, our imprisonment in the ice, the battle with the devilfish, the storm in the Gulf Stream, the Avenger, and that horrible scene of the vessel sinking with its crew ! All these events passed before my eyes like backdrops unrolling upstage in a theater In this strange setting Captain Nemo then grew fantastically His features were accentuated, taking on superhuman proportions He was no longer my equal, he was the Man of the Waters, the Spirit of the Seas By then it was 9:30 I held my head in both hands to keep it from bursting I closed my eyes I no longer wanted to think A half hour still to wait! A half hour of nightmares that could drive me insane! Just then I heard indistinct chords from the organ, melancholy harmonies from some undefinable hymn, actual pleadings from a soul trying to sever its earthly ties I listened with all my senses at once, barely breathing, immersed like Captain Nemo in this musical trance that was drawing him beyond the bounds of this world Then a sudden thought terrified me Captain Nemo had left his stateroom He was in the same lounge I had to cross in order to escape There I would encounter him one last time He would see me, perhaps speak to me! One gesture from him could obliterate me, a single word shackle me to his vessel! Even so, ten o'clock was about to strike It was time to leave my stateroom and rejoin my companions I dared not hesitate, even if Captain Nemo stood before me I opened the door cautiously, but as it swung on its hinges, it seemed to make a frightful noise This noise existed, perhaps, only in my imagination! I crept forward through the Nautilus's dark gangways, pausing after each step to curb the pounding of my heart I arrived at the corner door of the lounge I opened it gently The lounge was plunged in profound darkness Chords from the organ were reverberating faintly Captain Nemo was there He didn't see me Even in broad daylight I doubt that he would have noticed me, so completely was he immersed in his trance I inched over the carpet, avoiding the tiniest bump whose noise might give me away It took me five minutes to reach the door at the far end, which led into the library I was about to open it when a gasp from Captain Nemo nailed me to the spot I realized that he was standing up I even got a glimpse of him because some rays of light from the library had filtered into the lounge He was coming toward me, arms crossed, silent, not walking but gliding like a ghost His chest was heaving, swelling with sobs And I heard him murmur these words, the last of his to reach my ears: "O almighty God! Enough! Enough!" Was it a vow of repentance that had just escaped from this man's conscience ? Frantic, I rushed into the library I climbed the central companionway, and going along the upper gangway, I arrived at the skiff I went through the opening that had already given access to my two companions "Let's go, let's go!" I exclaimed "Right away!" the Canadian replied First, Ned Land closed and bolted the opening cut into the Nautilus's sheet iron, using the monkey wrench he had with him After likewise closing the opening in the skiff, the Canadian began to unscrew the nuts still bolting us to the underwater boat Suddenly a noise from the ship's interior became audible Voices were answering each other hurriedly What was it? Had they spotted our escape? I felt Ned Land sliding a dagger into my hand "Yes," I muttered, "we know how to die!" The Canadian paused in his work But one word twenty times repeated, one dreadful word, told me the reason for the agitation spreading aboard the Nautilus We weren't the cause of the crew's concern "Maelstrom! Maelstrom!" they were shouting The Maelstrom! Could a more frightening name have rung in our ears under more frightening circumstances? Were we lying in the dangerous waterways off the Norwegian coast? Was the Nautilus being dragged into this whirlpool just as the skiff was about to detach from its plating? As you know, at the turn of the tide, the waters confined between the Faroe and Lofoten Islands rush out with irresistible violence They form a vortex from which no ship has ever been able to escape Monstrous waves race together from every point of the horizon They form a whirlpool aptly called "the ocean's navel," whose attracting power extends a distance of fifteen kilometers It can suck down not only ships but whales, and even polar bears from the northernmost regions This was where the Nautilus had been sent accidentally—or perhaps deliberately—by its captain It was sweeping around in a spiral whose radius kept growing smaller and smaller The skiff, still attached to the ship's plating, was likewise carried around at dizzying speed I could feel us whirling I was experiencing that accompanying nausea that follows such continuous spinning motions We were in dread, in the last stages of sheer horror, our blood frozen in our veins, our nerves numb, drenched in cold sweat as if from the throes of dying! And what a noise around our frail skiff! What roars echoing from several miles away! What crashes from the waters breaking against sharp rocks on the seafloor, where the hardest objects are smashed, where tree trunks are worn down and worked into "a shaggy fur," as Norwegians express it! What a predicament! We were rocking frightfully The Nautilus defended itself like a human being Its steel muscles were cracking Sometimes it stood on end, the three of us along with it! "We've got to hold on tight," Ned said, "and screw the nuts down again! If we can stay attached to the Nautilus, we can still make it !" He hadn't finished speaking when a cracking sound occurred The nuts gave way, and ripped out of its socket, the skiff was hurled like a stone from a sling into the midst of the vortex My head struck against an iron timber, and with this violent shock I lost consciousness Chapter 23 Conclusion WE COME TO the conclusion of this voyage under the seas What happened that night, how the skiff escaped from the Maelstrom's fearsome eddies, how Ned Land, Conseil, and I got out of that whirlpool, I'm unable to say But when I regained consciousness, I was lying in a fisherman's hut on one of the Lofoten Islands My two companions, safe and sound, were at my bedside clasping my hands We embraced each other heartily Just now we can't even dream of returning to France Travel between upper Norway and the south is limited So I have to wait for the arrival of a steamboat that provides bimonthly service from North Cape So it is here, among these gallant people who have taken us in, that I'm reviewing my narrative of these adventures It is accurate Not a fact has been omitted, not a detail has been exaggerated It's the faithful record of this inconceivable expedition into an element now beyond human reach, but where progress will someday make great inroads Will anyone believe me? I don't know Ultimately it's unimportant What I can now assert is that I've earned the right to speak of these seas, beneath which in less than ten months, I've cleared 20,000 leagues in this underwater tour of the world that has shown me so many wonders across the Pacific, the Indian Ocean, the Red Sea, the Mediterranean, the Atlantic, the southernmost and northernmost seas! But what happened to the Nautilus? Did it withstand the Maelstrom's clutches? Is Captain Nemo alive? Is he still under the ocean pursuing his frightful program of revenge, or did he stop after that latest mass execution? Will the waves someday deliver that manuscript that contains his full life story? Will I finally learn the man's name? Will the nationality of the stricken warship tell us the nationality of Captain Nemo? I hope so I likewise hope that his powerful submersible has defeated the sea inside its most dreadful whirlpool, that the Nautilus has survived where so many ships have perished! If this is the case and Captain Nemo still inhabits the ocean—his adopted country— may the hate be appeased in that fierce heart! May the contemplation of so many wonders extinguish the spirit of vengeance in him! May the executioner pass away, and the scientist continue his peaceful exploration of the seas! If his destiny is strange, it's also sublime Haven't I encompassed it myself? Didn't I lead ten months of this otherworldly existence? Thus to that question asked 6,000 years ago in the Book of Ecclesiastes—"Who can fathom the soundless depths?"—two men out of all humanity have now earned the right to reply Captain Nemo and I Prepared and Published by: Ebd E-BooksDirectory.com [...]... succession Thousands of handkerchiefs were waving above these tightly packed masses, hailing the Abraham Lincoln until it reached the waters of the Hudson River, at the tip of the long peninsula that forms New York City The frigate then went along the New Jersey coast the wonderful right bank of this river, all loaded down with country homes—and passed by the forts to salutes from their biggest cannons The. .. leviathan from the Book of Job—out of faith, not reason The monster existed, and he had vowed to rid the seas of it The man was a sort of Knight of Rhodes, a latter–day Sir Dieudonné of Gozo, on his way to fight an encounter with the dragon devastating the island Either Commander Farragut would slay the narwhale, or the narwhale would slay Commander Farragut No middle of the road for these two The ship's... officers shared the views of their leader They could be heard chatting, discussing, arguing, calculating the different chances of an encounter, and observing the vast expanse of the ocean Voluntary watches from the crosstrees of the topgallant sail were self–imposed by more than one who would have cursed such toil under any other circumstances As often as the sun swept over its daily arc, the masts were... still on the planking of the deck below! And the Abraham Lincoln's stempost hadn't even cut the suspected waters of the Pacific As for the crew, they only wanted to encounter the unicorn, harpoon it, haul it on board, and carve it up They surveyed the sea with scrupulous care Besides, Commander Farragut had mentioned that a certain sum of $2,000.00 was waiting for the man who first sighted the animal,... kindly stop bulging, master will see farther!" But what a waste of energy! The Abraham Lincoln would change course and race after the animal sighted, only to find an ordinary baleen whale or a common sperm whale that soon disappeared amid a chorus of curses! However, the weather held good Our voyage was proceeding under the most favorable conditions By then it was the bad season in these southernmost... his eating and sleeping, to make up for the time he had so stupidly sacrificed With typical human fickleness, they jumped from one extreme to the other Inevitably, the most enthusiastic supporters of the undertaking became its most energetic opponents This reaction mounted upward from the bowels of the ship, from the quarters of the bunker hands to the messroom of the general staff; and for certain, if... of the lightship, whose two signal lights mark the entrance of the narrows to Upper New York Bay Three o'clock then sounded The harbor pilot went down into his dinghy and rejoined a little schooner waiting for him to leeward The furnaces were stoked; the propeller churned the waves more swiftly; the frigate skirted the flat, yellow coast of Long Island; and at eight o'clock in the evening, after the. .. penetrates the interior of your body with equal pressure When the inside and outside pressures are in perfect balance, they neutralize each other and allow you to tolerate them without discomfort But in the water it's another story." "Yes, I see," Ned replied, growing more interested "Because the water surrounds me but doesn't penetrate me." "Precisely, Ned So at thirty–two feet beneath the surface of the sea, ... built on a gigantic scale Our Creator cast them using a colossal mold that time has gradually made smaller With its untold depths, couldn't the sea keep alive such huge specimens of life from another age, this sea that never changes while the land masses undergo almost continuous alteration? Couldn't the heart of the ocean hide the last–remaining varieties of these titanic species, for whom years are... years later, the company's assets were increased by four 650– horsepower ships at 1,820 metric tons, and in two more years, by two other vessels of still greater power and tonnage In 1853 the Cunard Co., whose mail–carrying charter had just been renewed, successively added to its assets the Arabia, the Persia, the China, the Scotia, the Java, and the Russia, all ships of top speed and, after the Great